Make it better
by Bouncebackability
Summary: Hermione's mum is always there for her. (one-shot, complete)


Liz Granger was proud as her status as an over protective mother. She only had one child; it was her right to fuss over her daughter's socks, and what she was eating, whether she had finished all her homework and if those heels where too high.

Hermione was Liz's child, she had her studious disposition and her looks. From the slightly frizzy hair to the English Rose complexion, even the way her teeth used to stick out a little at the front before they got miraculously fixed during fourth year, she never did hear the full truth about that.

But Liz and Hermione varied in one fundamental way. Hermione was a witch while Liz was your common or garden "Muggle"; a non magical person. It was hard, she always felt on the outside, but every year she had one decent holiday with her child and they wrote constantly as Hermione was in Scotland studying the ways of her new found culture.

Currently Liz was tidying her daughter's room, not that it needed doing but she liked to feel like she was making some effort while her daughter was home. And from the way everything was immaculate apart from some dust on the TV Liz took it that Hermione wanted her there, she wouldn't forget something so obvious.

Hermione's room was an odd mish mash, it wasn't huge and had white fitted wardrobes down one wall, each lined with a gold plastic strip. There was a built in desk of which one half would always have notes and stationary and the other your usual girlie hair products and cosmetics. There was also the occasional bottle which looked like a novelty item from Halloween which Liz knew would contain some magic potion, as normal to use for witches as L'Oreal was for muggles. Although the anti-aging cream Liz picked up last time down Diagon Alley would put any muggle equivalent into the shade. She couldn't deny the magical community was far more advanced than hers was, but they did have somewhat of a head start.

The bed was made, a yellow duvet cover perfectly smoothed out with white cotton pillows and a teddy in the middle.

Then there was the table by the window, a TV and stereo sitting proudly on it. Hermione was into what they called BritPop and Indie music, although in honesty whatever was on the radio would suit her fine. You were just as likely to hear Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance March 1 and Pachabel's Cannon in D Minor as you were Wonderwall by Oasis or The Lightening Seed's Change.

Hermione's CDs were all in order, first by genre and then by artist. She'd always been like that as a child; not knowing where things were would drive her scatty. There wasn't even anything on the floor and once the top of the TV had been dusted there was no reason for Liz to stay. She moved the aerial and used Pledge on the top, and then set the aerial back so all 4 channels had a half decent reception.

Liz stood back and surveyed the room. There really was nothing else which needed doing, but out of habit Liz walked to the desk and picked up a bottle of Givenchy's Fleur d'interdit. It was Hermione's favourite perfume and her little treat when she did all right in her exams, which was nigh on every time. Anything less than 110 was deemed as failure in Hermione's eyes, and at Hogwarts 110 was an achievable mark…somehow. She squirted it a couple of times on her daughter's pillow, watching the dew settle into the fabric and taking a deep breath of the fragrance. Liz wasn't adverse to it herself and had been known to sneak the occasional squirt, but on the whole she respected her daughter's possessions.

As she sat the bottle back down on the desk, the etched glass with raised flowers holding the peach liquid, she noticed a photo. One of the wizarding kind where the people moved inside, usually posing or showing off. This one was more relaxed though. Liz examined it, it was taken in the snow and she recognised the three individuals. One was no surprise, Hermione was wearing her mittens from accessorize and that big coat she had nagged for as her main Christmas present. For a girl so studious she still had a thing about her designer names, but looking at her company they probably wouldn't notice. Maybe it was for the best she wasn't with a bunch of tacky fakes, people who loved Hermione for Hermione and not for her Fendi bag.

For starters they were boys, and boys never noticed anything. Liz remembered the letters about how impossible Harry and Ron were and how they messed about constantly. About how neither listened and were nasty and horrible and would never ever grow up.

Then it all changed, almost instantaneously and it had stayed the same every since. They were inseparable, although from the slight blush Hermione got when Ron was mentioned things might change soon and the friendship may be replaced by love. Liz remembered that fluttery feeling herself.

The second reason Harry and Ron would probably not notice that Hermione was wearing a pair of DocMartain boots under her Levi jeans and a Bench coat was that they didn't seem to have the funds to afford them themselves. When they weren't wearing their uniforms they both wore equally worn out clothes. Ron's always too short for him and Harry's always too large. Obvious cast offs, although it didn't seem to bother them in the slightest. Ron had loads of siblings so that figured but Liz never learnt the reason for Harry's choice of attire- if it was a choice at all or if it was out of necessity like Ron's.

Both boys were still recognisable as the pair she met in Diagon Alley four or five years ago at the beginning of second year. Harry still had his round glasses and those green eyes, his hair as messy as always but with flecks of white snow in it as Ron kept throwing snowballs at his head. Ron had his red hair and if anything seemed to have got taller, probably over 6 foot by now. Harry had shot up too, and even looked like he'd had a couple of decent meals in him. During that brief meeting in second year he was painfully thin, now he was just thin.

So, there they were; the three of them. The people who stood by Hermione through thick and thin and despite the fact they bugged her with their talk of quizzit or whatever it was called and distracted her when working but it was obvious that they all cared for each other.

She put the photo back on desk and caught sight of Hermione in the mirror; she spun round to see her daughter.

"Hey, just looking at your photo. Those 2 have grown up" Liz said in response to Hermione's enquiring look.

Hermione smiled, "You have no idea." She said, although her words were laced with fear and stress.

Liz sat on her daughter bed and indicated for her to come over by patting it in the same way she did as a child. Hermione obliged and Liz just stayed there for a couple of minute running her fingers through her child's hair. Occasionally having to untangle herself as she hit a snag in the bushy mass, as Hermione stayed still with her head on her mother's chest. "So, what's up?" She finally asked, moving so Hermione looked up.

"Nothing, just a bad year all around, mainly for Harry though. His godfather, you know the guy we stayed with last summer…Well he died, and Harry saw it."

Liz took a breath, unsure of what to say, Sirius he was called. She spoke to him once on the telephone when Hermione was going there. When she said she was surprised he had a phone he said he did it just to pee his mother off. Liz didn't know what to think about that but it made her giggled anyway. Her own mother hated her for being on the phone constantly.

"How's he taking it?" Liz asked, it seemed logical if formal and cold. She didn't know Harry really, let alone his family.

"Not great, although I think he was more screwed up at the end of last year. He seems to have got renewed passion now; he's going to get through for Sirius."

Liz just nodded, unsure as what to say. She felt like she knew him, she had heard so much, but it had all been from Hermione. She knew his best subject was Defence and that he played on the house whatever team. She knew he could bottle up his emotions and let them explode too, she even knew that his broomstick was a Firebolt and his owl was a snowy called Hedwig, but she had never spoken more than 3 lines to him, although he seemed pleasant enough. He was like Hermione, raised as a muggle, and that comforted Liz that Hermione wasn't alone in discovering the world.

She had sent him treats over the summer, as requested for by Hermione because his whole family had been put on a diet. Liz decided that was the last thing he needed and decided to join in on the conspiracy theory, although nothing which would cause a cavity, they give away the fact you've been having sugar.

"Mum." Hermione said, and for the first time Liz realised she had been crying, she sniffed as if she had a cold and her voice faltered, her eyes were even wet with tears. It was one of her traits; she never made a sound when she cried. Even as a baby she rarely wailed.

"What is it dear?" Liz said, holding her daughter closer into her chest.

Hermione took a deep breath, which shuddered slightly as she inhaled.

"I'm scared," She said.

Liz just wrapped her arm around her child and wished for all the pain to go away like it did when she was little. It wouldn't happen, life was cruel.

And as the pair sat there, both slightly shaking and entangled in one another Liz said I silent prayer. Hoping that maybe someone else would make it all alright.

* * *

**Please read and review :) Thank you.**

**www(dot)dec(dot)org(dot)uk Donate to the Tsunami appeal, the government has indicated they will match public donations, so every £1 you donate will be worth 2.**


End file.
